


The Sentinel Secret Santa Drabbles 2016

by franscats



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 03:59:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 7,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10180187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franscats/pseuds/franscats
Summary: These are The Sentinel Secret Santa Drabbles from 2016.  Each chapter is one of the drabbles.





	1. Grandma Ellison's Tree Topper

Grandma Ellison’s Tree Topper

“Sandburg, what are you doing down here?” Jim asked, entering his basement storage area, where Blair was peering behind some boxes, obviously snooping about. Blair practically jumped in surprise and turned, straightening, his expressive face showing he’d been caught at something. Fleetingly, Jim thought of a kid with his hand caught in a cookie jar.

“Oh, uh, hi, Jim. I thought I’d come down here and see what gifts, I mean ornaments, were down here.”

“Forget it, Junior. Your presents are not down here.”

“Presents, as in more than one?” Blair’s face lit up, and Jim smiled at his excitement.

“You are going to have to wait,” Jim answered, looking around. All of Jim’s things in the storage unit were well ordered, neatly stacked, and labeled, Blair’s things, not so much. “I had forgotten about the ornaments that are down here.”

“You mentioned them when we saw the ornaments in that antique shop, last month. You said you had your grandmother’s antique tree topper.”

“And you thought getting it would make a perfect excuse for looking down here,” it was a statement rather than question.

“I wasn’t actually thinking about the gifts,” Blair answered and paused, seeing Jim’s disbelieving look and mentally acknowledging you couldn’t lie to a sentinel. “Okay, I wasn’t only thinking about the gifts,” he amended.

Jim nodded and moved over to a corner area, pointing to a small set of boxes carefully placed on a shelf. “The top one is the star that belonged to Grandma Ellison. It was the star that topped her tree every year.”

Taking the top box, Blair carefully opened it. In the box, wrapped in what Blair guessed was acid free tissue paper, was a beautiful angel with a hand crocheted, white lace gown. The angel was holding a mercury glass star trimmed in gold. “This is beautiful,” Blair said, “holding the ornament up. Even in the light of the storage room, the star gleamed.

“Grandma Ellison got the ornament as a wedding gift when she married my grandfather. I think it’s over a hundred years old and the star is covered in gold.”

Blair nodded, carefully putting the angel back in the box and handing it to Jim. “I’d be afraid to put it on a tree,” he admitted. “But maybe we can display it in a case.”

“I would like that,” Jim agreed, putting an arm around Blair’s shoulders. “Let’s go, Sandburg. There are no gifts down here. You’ll have to look somewhere else.”

“Would you like to tell me where? It would save time.”

“I think I’ve put them where you won’t find them,” Jim answered, locking the storage room door. “Let’s go figure out where we can put that angel holding the star.”


	2. Sleeping With Santa

Blair Sandburg rubbed tired eyes and yawned as he made his way into the loft. It was after eleven and he was worn out. It was the end of the semester and he had been busy working with Jim, finishing his own school work, and getting his students’ grades in.

Thankfully, he had finished tonight.

Hanging up his coat on the peg by the door, Blair saw Jim’s coat wasn’t there, so Jim wasn’t home yet. He was at Simon’s holiday party. It was unfortunate, but Blair had been forced to decline the party invite in order to get his school work done and he had really wanted to go. Having become a police observer, and new to the workings of the PD, he had wanted to see the detectives interact outside of work.

“Next year,” he mumbled, walking into the living room and looking around. Jim had said something that morning about cleaning the loft. Blair had thought the loft looked perfectly clean, but Blair admitted Jim could see dirt where no one else could. He smiled at the small Christmas touches Jim had put out. There were a few ornaments around the room. Blair guessed that was the extent of Jim’s decorating.

He was about to put his book bag down but, after looking around the tidy room, carried the bag into the bedroom, dropping it next to his desk, and fumbling for the light. Turning it on, Blair noted there was something different about the room. It smelled of lemon oil and cleaning fluids and Blair turned examining the room.

Books, that had been haphazardly thrown about, were stacked neatly on the desk, his clothes folded on his chair, and his bed made.

Looking over the bed, Blair smiled. His bedspread had been replaced with a Christmas comforter. The comforter had a jolly Santa standing next to Rudolph with his bright, red nose. Where Jim got the comforter from, Blair didn’t know, but it smelled freshly washed and looked warm. Deciding the bed looked really inviting, he tossed off his clothes, pulled back the comforter, and laughed. The sheets and pillow cases matched the comforter, one pillow displaying a Santa, the other Rudolph. Climbing into the bed, thinking the bedding was not something he could see Jim buying, and tomorrow he’d ask Jim where he got these things, Blair fell asleep, so tired he never heard Jim get home.

Coming in from Simon’s, Jim could see Blair’s coat and, tilting his head, he could hear Blair’s even breathing. Wondering what Blair thought of the bedding, Jim peeked in the room and saw the young man, his head resting on Rudolph, a soft smile on his face. Carolyn had bought the comforter set when they first got married. Jim had refused to use it, but somehow he knew Blair would like it and pulled it out. In a lot of ways, Blair reminded Jim of his younger brother before they had become estranged and Jim really liked that.


	3. The Christmas Eve Stakeout

“Jim, have you ever been to the artic?” Blair asked, pulling the blanket he was wearing over his winter coat tighter around himself. The pair were sitting in Jim’s truck, watching Bradley Park.

“Yeah, with the rangers,” Jim answered.

“What on earth would the army be doing up there?”

“I can’t tell you. It was classified, and very cold.”

“Okay,” Blair shrugged, acknowledging there were things in Jim’s past that he couldn’t talk about.

Blair sat silent for a moment listening to the wind howl. Shivering, he reached down, pouring two cups of coffee from the thermos he had brought, and handing a steaming cup to Jim. “Man it is cold,” he groused.

“I told you to stay home, tonight,” Jim warned, “so don’t complain.”

“Yeah, you did. But how could I miss out on the fun of spending Christmas Eve, in a cold truck, with an arctic air mass sweeping down from the north causing subzero wind chills. And, imagine, we’re doing this to ensure some criminal doesn’t steal the Bradley Park Christmas Tree.” He paused and sighed, wondering at the lunacy of their situation and of politics in general. “And just why does Mayor Bradley think the tree is going to be taken?”

“He got a tip,” Jim shrugged, “and wanted to make sure the tree was there for the ceremony tomorrow morning.”

“You don’t actually think someone is going to steal the tree, do you?”

Jim turned and looked at Blair, chuckling. “A forty foot high Christmas tree. I seriously doubt it. The criminal would need to come in with some heavy equipment to do it.”

“Then why did Simon have you do this?”

“Mayor Bradley requested a detective from Major Crimes keep the tree safe and Rafe wanted to spend Christmas Eve with his in laws. Anyway, since we are doing this tonight, we don’t have to do patrol duty at the ceremony tomorrow morning. As bad as it is in a cold truck, it would be worse standing around in the cold tomorrow morning listening to the Mayor pontificate.”

“So, you get tomorrow off?”

“Yeah, and tomorrow morning, it’s going to snow.”

“A white Christmas,” Blair smiled and cast a quick glance at Jim’s silhouette. “I guess giving up a few hours here is a better option.”

Jim nodded. “Last year, Mayor Bradley’s ceremony took three hours, and though he is full of hot air, I don’t think his bellowing will warm anyone. I’d rather do this stretch tonight. We get to sleep in tomorrow and then have a big Christmas breakfast.”

“I guess I did promise you a big breakfast.”

‘You did and I’m holding you to it. Real butter, Sandburg, and syrup, and bacon, not that pretend stuff, you keep trying to pass off as bacon, and-“

“Jim you can stop, you’ll get your breakfast.”

“Good, that’s why I agreed to Bradley Park tonight.”

Thinking over what Jim had said, Blair decided, maybe next year, he wouldn’t mention a big breakfast.


	4. Holiday Policy

Simon Banks looked out his office window and smiled. His secretary, Rhonda, was hanging Christmas lights on a small tree. Technically, he should stop her, but Rhonda really boosted morale and Simon knew a smart leader sometimes had to bend the rules for the people who gave 110%.

Deciding to ignore what she was doing and the memo that had gone around to all the departments from the Commissioner stating, “holiday displays were not to be put up in public areas,” Simon turned back to his work.

It was very unlikely that the Commissioner would visit his department during the holidays anyway. For one thing, Simon’s solve rate was high enough that the Commissioner tended to leave him alone. For another, after the Commissioner’s run in with Sandburg last year, it was unlikely he would want to take on the anthropologist/observer again.

Chuckling, Simon remembered the encounter…

Commissioner Stone had walked into Major Crimes and scowled looking around. Rhonda had put a small Christmas tree, Menorah and Kwanzaa display in a corner of the room. Wrapped gifts were being put around the area.

Commissioner Stone looked at the display and turned to Rhonda. “Why is that up? We have a policy of no public displays.”

Simon, coming out of his office, prepared to answer for Rhonda, was forestalled by Blair. Having heard the comment he turned to the Commissioner.

“Sir,” Blair began, “despite the fact that the winter, or the hibernal solstice, heralds the start of winter in the northern hemisphere, it represents the turning of the sun and the hope that after the solstice the days start to get longer and brighter. As such, lights, whatever the religion, represent the lighter days to come. Dr. King once said, ‘Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that.’ The hard working men and women of this department are trying to share the light, and not only with others within the unit. The gifts are earmarked for a homeless shelter. If we remove the decorations and the gifts, I’m sure the shelter will have a lot to say, especially to the media.”

The Commissioner looked at Blair, his mouth opening and closing, and then turned to Simon. “Is this true? These gifts are going to a homeless shelter?”

“Yes, Sir, Major Crimes has been running a campaign to get gifts for children living in the shelter on Howard Street.”

“I see,” the Commissioner turned, examining the room. “You do know the PD does a toy drive?”

“Yes, Sir,” Simon replied before Blair could start lecturing again. “But we were able to get a list of things the children at the Howard shelter needed. We’ve also contributed to the PD drive.”

The Commissioner nodded. “Well I’ll overlook the breach this time.” With that, the Commissioner walked out.

Simon, again glanced out the window, and smiled. Blair was placing the first of what would be many gifts under the tree.


	5. Rum and Scotch Pine

“Sandburg, what the hell is that?” Jim called from the doorway of the loft.

Blair, who had been under a six foot tree adjusting the water pan, stood and looked at Jim, giving him an exasperated look. “It’s called a tree, Jim. Specifically, a Scotch Pine Evergreen, aka, a Christmas tree, and we are going to decorate it.”

“I hate live trees. They’re messy. Anyway, why are you buying a tree? Don’t you believe in grow and let grow or something.”

Blair rolled his eyes. “This tree was already cut and artificial trees are tacky.”

“Tacky?’”

“Yes, tacky, definition - of bad taste.”

“Tacky, Charlie Brown,” Jim challenged, “Is a shiny aluminum Christmas tree.”

“That’s a higher degree of tacky,” Blair answered. But when Jim continued to watch him, Blair shrugged. “Someone gave it to me and I thought it might be fun to have one,” Blair admitted. “So, grab some lights.”

Jim held up his hands. “I’m sensitive to the smell. I’ll just grab a beer and supervise you decorating.”

“Try again, oh sentinel. Just dial down.”

Jim actually laughed. “You start and I’ll join you,” Jim went into the kitchen. He started to reach for a beer, but seeing eggnog ingredients in the refrigerator, decided nobody should decorate a tree without eggnog, and rum. And glancing at Blair, trying to arrange the lights, Jim amended his thinking, deciding they’d need lots of rum.

“You need to move that strand more to the right,” Jim called as he quickly heated the ingredients, smiling. Needling Blair about silly things was always fun.

“You could come in here and show me how to hang them.”

“As soon as I’m done in here,” Jim promised.

Blair ignored him and continued hanging the lights. He was just behind the tree, still working on the lights when Jim joined him and handed him a glass of eggnog. “This will fortify you.”

“Thanks, are you going to help?”

“Yeah,” Jim answered, “after a glass of eggnog. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Blair clinked Jim’s glass and turned back to the tree. “You don’t really mind, do you?” Blair asked.

“Not really. It’s just something I haven’t done in a while. But I’m glad we’re doing it this year.”


	6. The Spirit Walk

“What do you seek, young shaman?” a native warrior asked. He stood on temple steps, a jaguar beside him and a blue jungle around him.

“I seek enlightenment,” Blair answered and the warrior raised his head, regarding Blair thoughtfully. This was Blair’s first spirit walk and as he was in a blue jungle, he considered it a success. Now, if he could only get the answers he sought.

“What do you need?” came the response.

“My sentinel, he has been zoning and his senses have been spiking,” Blair answered, wondering if he would have to explain the terms to the warrior spirit.

“Sentinels zone, it is one of the reasons they have guides. At times, their senses cause pain, it is another reason they have guides. You must soothe the pain.”

“But he wasn’t zoning so often before.”

The warrior considered this for a moment. “What has changed in his life?”

“Nothing,” Blair started, but then stopped. One thing had changed. Naomi had come by and though she hadn’t burned sage, she knew Jim was allergic, she had burned other incense. Not that Jim had seemed to mind. He hadn’t sneezed or complained. The smell hadn’t bothered him at all.

“You answer your own question, shaman,” the warrior observed. “Something has been placed near the sentinel that is upsetting his balance.” Blair nodded and the warrior continued. “Remove the things offending his senses and he will heal.”

With that the jungle faded and Blair, opening his eyes, found himself in the living room of the loft, surrounded by unscented candles just as Jim entered. “Hi Chief,” Jim called out as he turned and looked at Blair. “Meditating again?”

“No, not exactly. Since today is Bodhi-"

“Bodhi?" Jim interjected.

“Bodhi, it’s a Buddhist day of spiritual enlightenment. Anyway, since today is Bodhi, I thought I would try a spirit walk.”

“You did a spirit walk!”

Blair nodded, “And I think I know what’s been going on with your senses.” Getting up, Blair started to hunt down all the incense and candles Naomi had brought on her latest visit. Finding them all over the loft, even in the bedrooms, he bagged them, and put them in a plastic bag. “I think on some level the incense and candles are affecting you.”

“I didn’t notice anything.”

“I have it on fairly good authority that the candles and incense have been the problem. Let’s get rid of them and see if things get better.”

“Fine, but you’re the one who will tell Naomi you got rid of the stuff.”


	7. Protecting the Protector

“We should place some of these posters in the student union building,” Blair said, holding up a large, colorful sign that read, “Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.” –United Nations Declaration.

The four people sitting with him in the loft, all agreed, all four continuing to write out their own posters with sayings such as, “The rights of every man are diminished when the rights of one man are threatened.” –JFK

“Nice signs,” Jim said, walking into the loft and looking at the five people assembled around the table. Turning, to Blair, he raised an eyebrow in question.

“Hey Jim,” Blair greeted. “Human Rights Day is coming up and we wanted to focus people on some of the violations going on.” He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “I didn’t realize it was so late,” he said before turning back to the group. “Everybody, this is my roommate Jim.”

The four others looked up and smiled at Jim, offering variations on “Hello” as Blair introduced them.

“I guess we should stop, I mean you just got in from work and should have your dinner. We can get the table cleared in no time,” he indicated the supplies.

Holding up a hand to stop Blair, Jim answered, “Not a problem, Sandburg. I’ll contribute to your gathering. I’ll order pizza for the whole group so you have time to finish.”

“Really? Thanks Jim,” Blair smiled as Jim pulled a takeout menu from the kitchen drawer and ordered four pies.

Pulling out his wallet, Jim put some money on the counter and turned to head upstairs. “I’m just going to go up and change.”

As soon as he was gone, one member of the group looked over at Blair and whispered, “I would have thought as a cop, your roommate wouldn’t approve of what we’re doing and would throw us and our posters out.”

Blair winced, knowing Jim could hear the whispered comment. “Why? Cops believe in human rights too.”

“I guess you’re right, it’s just that’s not how they’re always perceived.”

Blair nodded his agreement. “My mother had the same perception. She wasn’t happy about me working with the police. She even said she was afraid she’d see me, and I quote, ‘parading around here in a blue uniform and jack boots.’ But even she came to understand that not all cops are like that. Jim believes in human rights and he works hard to protect Cascade.”

“He’s certainly a good guy,” another of the group answered and indicated the table. “I mean we’ve taken over his place and he still offered to buy pizza. And, you know, we eat a lot of pizza.”

Blair smiled, thinking it was the job of the guide to protect the protector. “Yeah, he is a good guy,” Blair agreed.


	8. The Gingerbread Men

Standing on the balcony to get some air, Jim glanced up at the stars and wondered if Blair was seeing the same constellations. It was winter break at Rainier and Blair had been given a chance to spend some time at a dig site in South America.

Blair had hesitated about going, but Jim, knowing Blair wanted to go, he’d been talking about the dig and what they’d been finding for weeks, told him to go, and they would celebrate the holidays when he got back. While Blair was gone, Jim would keep his senses down.

With a bit of coaxing, and Jim buying Blair a non-refundable plane ticket, Blair had gone, and Jim had done fairly well without his guide. That was until today. Today, Collette, from Collette’s Bakery, the bakery under Jim’s apartment, had come to his door at 6am, knocking and weeping.

“Jim,” she said, when he opened the door, “I’ve been robbed.”

“Have you called the police?” Jim asked, even as he went to get dressed.

“No, I thought I’d come to you first.”

Jim nodded and followed the baker downstairs. The glass on the door had been broken, the old register jimmied open, and cookies, cakes, flour, and sugar had been spilled all over the floor. “Who’s been in here?” he asked, as he stopped Collette from entering.

“Just me when I arrived. When I saw the mess, I came to get you.”

“Good. Call the police,” Jim answered, squatting down and pushing up his dials, his eyes sweeping the flour and finding three different sets of fingerprints.

When the patrol arrived, he pointed out the fingerprints and within four hours the three culprits were in custody.

In thanks for his help, Collette gave Jim the gingerbread cookies she had made the day before. He smiled at all the cookies, even as he tried to settle his senses. Unfortunately, they weren’t dialing down as far as he wanted them to go.

By the evening, Jim had a major headache and he knew the headache would only get worse, without Blair’s herbal remedies.

Going to the kitchen cabinet, he looked at the various teas, not sure which to use. Finally, deciding on orange pekoe, he made a cup and settled for the evening.

That night, in Jim’s dreams, there were gingerbread men dancing all around him – and they all looked like Blair with long, curly hair. “Drink the green tea,” they kept telling him.

Finally, waking and getting up, Jim followed the gingerbread men’s advice and made a cup of green tea. An hour later, the headache was easing and he went back up to bed, feeling better.

Again, he dreamed about gingerbread men, only this time they told him, “In the morning, drink the ginger lemon tea.”

And Jim knew for sure he had channeled his guide, when the gingerbread men added, “And don’t think you’ll be eating bakery goods for the next month. That’s way too much refined sugar for you.”


	9. Carols and Bells

I heard the bells on Christmas Day,

Their old, familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet

The words repeat

Of peace on earth, good-will to men.

Blair glanced over at the radio playing the carol as several people began to chime in, singing along. He was in the PD break room where Simon had placed a variety of holiday desserts as a thank you for the men and women of Major Crimes. Glancing over at Jim, Blair noticed he was putting a piece of chocolate cheese cake on his plate next to a piece of apple pie.

He was about to comment on the amount of refined sugar Jim was taking in when Henry Brown called out to him. “Blair, do you know anything about the history of this song?”

Blair nodded. “The song was actually a poem written by Longfellow about the civil war.”

“See, I told you,” Joel answered, walking over and cutting a piece of the cheese cake. “I’ll just have one small piece,” he announced to the assembled group, “since I’m dieting.”

Blair hid a smile, deciding not to point out that Joel had already had a piece of pie and a several cookies.

“What about Jingle Bells,” Henry challenged. “Any story there?”

“It wasn’t written as a Christmas song. It was about the annual one-horse-open-sleigh races in Massachusetts,” Blair answered, almost apologetically.

Henry Brown shook his head and sighed, the smiled as he tried again. “Okay, what about Silent Night?”

“That is a Christmas carol,” Blair nodded. “It was started as a poem, but he man who wrote it, wanted it set to music for his Christmas service and had his organist write the music. If I recall correctly, the original version was done on guitar because the church’s organ was broken.”

“How do you know this stuff?”

“I went to Oberndorf Austria where it was first performed.”

“I see,” Henry gave up and went to grab a cannoli.

Blair watched him go and then turned back to Jim. Somehow his plate had gained two chocolate chip cookies and two oatmeal cookies in the time it took to answer Henry’s questions. “Ah, Jim, don’t you think you’re overdoing it with the sweets?”

Jim glanced at his plate and back at Blair. “No, I think this is the perfect amount,” and then added quietly, “I’m on the same diet as Joel."


	10. Getting Ready for Hanukkah

“Tradition, tradition! Tradition!” Blair sang the words to Fiddler on the Roof as he cleaned a Menorah. “Who, day and night, must scramble for a living, feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers.” Blair paused. “Okay, no wife and children, but I do scramble for a living,” he paused, mulling over that thought, and then decided, “or at least I did until Jim put a roof over my head. It did sort of ease some of the scrambling,” he admitted as he put the Menorah down on a small table beside the balcony doors, deciding it looked really good there.

Blair hadn’t planned on putting out a Menorah. In celebration of the winter holidays, he had put a few tasteful Christmas decorations around the loft because Jim was Christian and, honestly, the loft had seemed a little bare considering the season. He had bought just a few pretty red and gold candles, an angel that he thought might look good on one of the shelves, and small wreaths for the balcony windows.

Being an anthropologist, Blair liked to think all religions had a spiritual component that could be tapped into, and he didn’t mind celebrating any, and all, winter traditions.

Jim had come in just after Blair had finished hanging the wreaths and placing the candles around. “Hi, Jim,” Blair had called out as he put the angel on the shelf. “What are you doing, Sandburg?”

Blair had turned and glanced at Jim. “Your powers of deduction are amazing, detective. I thought I’d put up just a few decorations.”

“I thought you were Jewish? You did mention having a Bar Mitzvah.”

“Truthfully, I’m a religious thrill seeker. As an anthropologist, I’ll observe and participate in any religious celebration.”

“Well,” Jim waved a hand. “Thanks for the decorations, they’re nice.” Blair chuckled at Jim’s overwhelming enthusiasm. “Shouldn’t you put up some Jewish decorations, then?”

“You don’t mind?” Blair answered, large blue eyes turning to Jim. “I do have a Menorah and some dreidels.”

“Put them out, you live here too.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“Maybe we can try some traditional Hanukkah foods,” Jim continued. “I hear latkes are a tradition at Hanukkah.”

“Figures you’d know about the fried food,” Blair answered. “Sure, I’ll make some latkes.”

“And fried donuts?” Jim added, hopefully.

“How do you know about fried donuts?”

Jim shrugged. “I looked up the holiday to see if there were any specials things I should do for you.”

“That was really nice, Jim. Thank you.”

Jim waved off the thank you, embarrassed. “Why don’t you give me a list of things you need for the food and I’ll make sure I get the ingredients.”


	11. An Australian Dinner

“What’s your favorite Christmas movie, Sandy?” Megan asked.

The pair were sitting on the sofa in the loft, watching A Christmas Carol and sipping coffee laced with Kahlua.

Jim had gone that morning to Seattle to testify in a court case and decided, since he wasn’t working the next day, to stay overnight. Rather than send Blair out with another detective, Simon saw Jim’s absence as an opportunity to get some overdo paperwork finished and had ordered Detective Blair Sandburg to clear up his and his partner’s paperwork. As a byproduct, Blair had gotten out of work at a decent hour.

Initially, Blair had thought of inviting a girlfriend over for a romantic dinner, but Megan had suggested they have dinner together. Of course, she hadn’t mentioned that Jim had asked her to keep an eye on Blair because Blair was, as Jim put it, a “trouble magnet.”

Instead of going out, they had decided to stay in and cook.

Megan, announcing she was making an Australian dish, had made stir fry prawns with vegetables and Blair had bought a cheese cake and made sausage cheese biscuits.

They had enjoyed the food, shared a bottle of wine, and turned on a Christmas movie after deciding that Megan would take car service home.

“I guess my favorite is It’s a Wonderful Life. I love that Clarence shows George Bailey how he had touched so many other lives.”

“You’ve touched a lot of lives yourself,” Megan noted.

“Me?”

“You’ve touched Jim’s. He told me that you helped him with his senses from the very start.”

“He would have done fine without me,” Blair answered, waving a hand dismissively. “Maybe even better without me,” Blair continued, thinking of the dissertation mess.

“I think you’re selling yourself short mate. Jim told me he wouldn’t have made it without you.”

“Jim exaggerates,” Blair countered, but he smiled nonetheless. It was kind of nice hearing that Jim appreciated his help.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say anything,” Megan continued. “And Jim might just have been exaggerating, like you say, but he told me, he was ready to put a gun to his head when he met you. He said the day he met you was the luckiest day of his life. It saved him and his sanity.”

“Did he really say that?” Blair turned and gave Megan a soul searching look.

“He did. So, think about it. If you hadn’t saved Jim and shown him how to use his sentinel senses, think how many others would have been affected. You and Jim have saved a lot of people. Sandy, you’re a hero, as much as any of us, maybe even more than most of us.”

Blair looked away from Megan, both embarrassed and pleased but she could see the smile as he wiped at his eyes. “Thanks for telling me,” he whispered. “I feel like I’ve experienced It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Megan leaned over and gave Blair a hug before the two went back to watching the movie.


	12. Looking at Snow

“What do you see when you look at a snowflake?” Blair asked, glancing at the snow landing on the balcony.

“What do I see? I see snow,” Jim answered with a shrug.

“Elaborate, Jim, can you see individual crystals?”

“I’ve never really looked that closely, Frosty.”

“If I had sentinel vision, I would be looking at snowflakes,” Blair huffed.

“I’m sure you would,” Jim agreed.

“Sometimes I think sentinel senses are wasted on you.”

“You know, Sandburg, I’m sure the sentinels in the jungle didn’t spend much time looking at snowflakes.”

“Very funny,” Blair stood. “Come on, man. Let’s go out on the balcony and look at the snowflakes.”

“It’s freezing out there.”

“We’ll go just for a minute or two. I want to know what you see.”

Knowing he could spend the rest of the evening arguing, or even worse, listening to his guide sigh mournfully, Jim got up and reached for his coat. “Five minutes, that’s as long as I’ll stay out there.”

“Fine,” Blair grabbed his jacket before opening the balcony door. The two stepped outside, the cold air hitting them. “Let’s do this quickly,” Blair said, as the frigid wind whipped around the balcony. “Describe the snow, Jim.”

“It’s white.”

Blair whacked him lightly on the arm. “Come on, focus on a snowflake and tell me what you see.”

Jim gave a sigh and looked around at the snowflakes landing on the window. Raising a hand he pointed at what looked like a tiny white clump of snow to Blair.

“I can see 20 different designs, all slowly melting together. Most of them have jagged edges, like stars, and there’s a symmetry to them before they start to melt. The ice shines on different parts of the flake making it seem like they twinkle.”

“Like diamonds?” Blair asked and Jim nodded.

“None of them are actually white. They’re all clear crystals,” Jim added, reaching out and putting the snow on his finger. Turning, he planted the snow on Blair’s nose. “They are beautiful,” Jim finished before ushering Blair back into the warm loft.

Pulling off his coat, he turned and looked at Blair. “Uh, Chief, thanks. Usually the senses are a pain or a tool, I don’t usually see the upside of them.”

Blair smiled, almost sadly. “Sometimes, Jim, you have to stop and enjoy them.”

“Thanks for showing me that.”


	13. The ice Storm Hero

The snow and ice were falling fast and the low temperatures sent a chill through anyone who made the mistake of being outside. On top of that, the streets were giant sheets of ice. Cars and trucks without tire chains were banned from driving while the salters and snow plows worked. And right in the thick of it was Jim Ellison.

Blair, having made it home from Rainier, and it took him hours to make the usual 20 minute trip, walked in and seeing a message on the answering machine heard, “Hey, Sandburg, I’m on emergency duty. I’ll get home when I can. Stay inside, it’s dangerous outside.”

Glancing out the windows, Blair wondered if Jim was safe. That very morning, Jim had stood at the window and sniffed at the air before declaring, “it’s not going to be a snow storm, it’s going to be an ice storm. We should lay in provisions.”

So, Jim had gone to the market before work and bought bread, milk, beer, pretzels, Twinkies, and other things he called, “staples of life,” before heading out almost 16 hours ago.

Knowing Jim’s senses were usually spot-on, Blair had picked up chocolate for hot chocolate, heavy cream for whipping, a bottle of Bailey’s and peppermint. He had found this recipe for Bailey’s Peppermint Cream and, knowing Jim liked all four ingredients, planned on making it as a Christmas treat.

Picking up the phone, Blair tried Jim’s cell, but it went straight to voicemail and Blair guessed his phone was probably dead. So, he tried the station and, after a few failed attempts, got Detective Rafe.

“Hi Rafe, is Jim around?’

“He went out early this afternoon with emergency services. They were dealing with accidents and downed power lines. He’s been outside all day. I don’t envy him.”

“Okay, if you hear from him, can you have him check in with me?”

“Sure thing, Blair.”

An hour later, the phone rang. “Sandburg,” Jim said, before Blair could answer. “I’m by the fire station off Bradley. I’ll be walking home from here. Rafe said you called. You okay?”

Typical,” Blair thought, Jim’s worrying about me, while he’s out in an ice storm. “I’m fine. Why are you walking?”

“I left the truck at the station and traveled with the patrols. They’re still directing traffic.”

“You must be freezing. Be careful, man. I’ll have a special, hot Christmas drink waiting for you when you get here.”

“It doesn’t have any of that green stuff you drink in it? Just because that’s stuff is green, doesn’t make it a Christmas drink.”

“No man, after being outside all day, I wouldn’t do that to you. Just come home and I’ll have it ready for you. It’s guaranteed to warm you up.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

Jim hung up and Blair started cooking. He would be sure their home was warm and inviting. Jim had spent the day outside and in Blair’s book that made Jim an ice storm hero.


	14. The Christmas Stocking

Joel was dressed in a Santa suit. There’d been a lot of good-natured ribbing over the fact that he didn’t need much padding. Megan and Rhonda were wearing elf dresses, and the rest of the day shift of Major Crimes had various Christmas attire on, be it red shirts or sweaters. Even Rafe, their own fashionista, was wearing a tie with red candy canes on it.

The group had booked the backroom of Martin’s Bar and Grill for a small holiday celebration after work three days before Christmas. It was where they would share some holiday cheer and open their Secret Santa gifts.

Blair, as the newest detective and thus low man on the totem pole, had been given the job of getting all the gifts to Martin’s, and he had, with Jim’s help.

Martin, a retired cop, had been renting out his backroom to Major Crimes for a holiday party for years. He would put out some bar food, bottles of beer and soda, and after two hours, a sheet cake and coffee. It wasn’t a huge or expensive spread, but it was enough for the small group and Simon, in appreciation for his staff’s hard work, always paid the bill for the little gathering.

On a small table, near the backroom door, a bunch of stockings had been put on a table. Each labeled with the name of a Major Crimes employee. The tradition of laying out stockings had started when Simon’s Aunt Betina had “allegedly” taken up sewing and made a bunch of Christmas stockings, giving them all to her favorite nephew. Simon, having no idea what to do with these less than perfect sewing endeavors, had started giving the stockings out to his employees and it had become a tradition. The stockings, mostly made of felt, didn’t always resemble holiday fare, but everyone pulled theirs out at Christmas.

Simon would be providing Blair’s this year.

Blair, a Santa hat tilted on his head, glanced over at the table. “These are weird looking stockings?” he whispered to Jim.

“Simon gives out a stocking that he thinks most represents his employee or one of his employee’s interests,” Jim answered.

“I guess that explains the fisherman on yours, the fancy suit on Rafe’s, and the kangaroo on Megan’s, but what’s with the firecracker on H’s?”

“He cracks people up.”

Blair shook his head in disbelief. “I wonder what he’ll get for me?”

“You’ll know soon enough, Sandburg,” Jim indicated Simon was walking in.

Calling everyone over to the table, Simon announced he had a stocking for Blair, and everyone watched as he handed Blair a white box. “Merry Christmas, Detective,” he said and Blair smiled as he opened the box pushing aside tissue paper.

Under the paper was a felt stocking and Blair looked down at it and then started to laugh, holding it up. It was an elf, holding a book, and Simon had used a marker to write in the title, “Obfuscation, or the Art of Misdirection.”


	15. The Solstice Bonfire

“I’ll be heading out, Jim. I’ll be back the day before Christmas Eve,” Blair called, stepping out of his room and adjusting the duffle bag on his shoulder.

“You have enough money, Sandburg,” Jim called, coming down from his bedroom.

“Yeah, I don’t need much. I’ll be staying with Rainbow and Noble. I left their phone numbers on the counter.”

“And exactly why are you going to San Diego for the solstice?” Jim asked, still trying to figure out why someone would celebrate the solstice. It seemed like there were a lot of better things to celebrate this time of year. “I mean isn’t the solstice happening here, too?”

“Yeah, but we light a bonfire and dance around a beach and it’s kind of cold to dance around the beaches here in Cascade at this time of year.”

“I guess that’s true,” Jim agreed.

“And we do it naked,” Blair added.

“What?”

“It was a communal tradition and we’ve kept it up. We’ll go to a secluded beach and dance around a bonfire naked to celebrate the solstice.”

“Naked,” Jim repeated and Blair nodded.

“Uh, who else is in this group?”

“Some old friends,” Blair answered. “Rainbow, Arial, Lace, Noble, and a bunch of others you’ve never heard of.”

“Naked,” Jim repeated.

“In the light of the bonfire,” Blair added, helpfully.

“Just do me one favor, Chief,” Blair waited to hear what Jim wanted. “Don’t get arrested for indecent exposure, or having an orgy on a public beach.”

Blair gave a sigh. “I’ll see you in a few days, I’m heading to the airport with Blue.”

Jim watched Blair dance out the door and muttered, “Maybe, I better put some bail money aside, just in case.”


	16. An Impromtu Dinner

“Look Joan,” Simon said, annoyed, his hold on the phone tightening. “Daryl spends Christmas Day with you, but Christmas Eve with me.”

“So, he can eat a TV dinner.”

“I’m not going to feed him a TV dinner on Christmas Eve,” Simon yelled. “Just have him meet me at the station.”

“Great, so he can spend Christmas Eve in your office.”

“Joan, I’m leaving at five today.”

“Fine, but he better be home tonight,” she hung up and Simon sighed.

Outside Simon’s office, Jim considered what he had just overhead. Smiling, at an idea, he picked up the phone, dialing.

“Blair Sandburg,” a pleasant voice answered.

“Hi, Chief, do you have any plans for this evening?”

“No, most everyone’s gone for the holidays. Why?” Blair asked, cautiously. He knew Jim and Megan were working both Christmas Eve and, Christmas Day, covering for Rafe and H.

“What if I asked you to put together a Christmas Eve dinner and I invited Simon and Daryl,” he glanced over at Megan, taking a call, “and Megan too, if she hasn’t got plans.”

“Sure, Jim, I"d love to do that, it would be an impromptu party.” Jim could hear the smile in Blair’s voice.

“Come on by the PD and I’ll give you my debit card and you can do some shopping, get fish and whatever else you’ll need.”

“Should I get stuff for a Christmas Day dinner as well?”

“That would be great. Simon, Megan and I are working, but it would nice if we could share a Christmas dinner.”

“I’ll be there in a few,” Blair answered, happily.

Standing, Jim knocked and went in Simon’s office.

“Hi, Simon, I wanted to invite you to dinner at my house, tonight.”

Simon glanced at his lead detective and then the phone. “You overheard?”

“Half of Cascade overheard you and your ex,” Jim answered. “Blair’s going to make a Christmas Eve dinner and you and Daryl should come.”

“Just when did you plan this dinner?”

“Five minutes ago,” Jim shrugged, “But Blair’s school is out and he didn’t have any plans, so he agreed to cook. I’ll see if Megan’s got plans, and if not, I’ll invite her too.”

Simon smiled. “Well, then, I’d love to join you, thanks Jim. I’ll bring some wine.”

Jim nodded and went out to Megan’s desk. “Connor, Sandburg is making a Christmas Eve dinner. If you don’t have any plans…” Jim paused and was treated to a bright smile.

“Thanks, Jim, I’d love to join you and Sandy.”

“And Daryl and Simon,” Jim indicated Simon’s office. “It’s just a quick little dinner we’re throwing together.”

“I’ll pick up a dessert on the way to your place. Thanks, I was feeling a bit low about not being home.”

“Then join us tomorrow night, for Christmas dinner. I’m going to tell Simon to come by tomorrow too.”

“That’s really nice, thanks,” Megan perked up.

Christmas had come to the bullpen.


	17. Home for the Holidays

“I have a little dreidel, I made it out of clay, and when it's dry and ready, then dreidel I shall play…

Blair sang as he peeled potatoes. Christmas Eve would be the first night of Hanukkah and Blair had promised Jim a traditional Hanukkah dinner, including the brisket that had been cooking all day and latkes.

The meal had started because Jim, coming in from work, had seen Blair unpacking a box. “What have you got there?” Jim asked, pointing at the box.

“Hi Jim, my aunt sent me the family Menorah. I was always too itinerant to keep it, but since I’m settled here, I thought I’d put it out in my room.”

“Why don’t you put it out in the living room?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, you can decorate for Hanukkah.”

“I’ll pull out some dreidels and light a candle every night to celebrate the eight day miracle. When I was a kid, we’d light the candles and then get a gift every night.”

“So, do you want to do something special on Hanukkah?” Jim asked.

“There are certain traditional foods,” Blair admitted. “Fried potato latkes and brisket were served at my aunt’s house on the first night.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Okay,” Blair laughed, realizing he had just been maneuvered into making the dinner, not that he really minded. “I’ll make a traditional Hanukkah dinner. I have my aunt’s recipes.”

Over the next few days, Blair noticed Jim carrying in some small blue and silver packages before they disappeared upstairs into Jim’s closet. And the day Blair put the Menorah on a table near the balcony windows, eight silver and blue wrapped packages appeared around it. Not to ignore Jim’s holiday, Blair hung wreaths on the balcony windows and then brought out a few red and green packages, after all, Hanukkah would start on Christmas Eve. And, on Christmas Eve, he placed a tray of cookies on the table, knowing Jim would like that.

On the first night of Hanukkah, Blair lit the center and first candle while Jim watched and the two sat down to dinner. Jim had bought some wine for the occasion and Blair lifted his wineglass and smiled at Jim. “To Friends,” he offered and Jim repeated his words and they clinked glasses.

“You know,” Blair continued as they ate brisket, latkes, carrots and string beans, “I haven’t had a traditional Hanukkah since I left Texas. I wouldn’t send for the Menorah or cook the special meal because I was never home, until now.”

“To being home,” Jim acknowledged, holding up his glass, and again, they toasted. “And after dinner, you can have one of the eight packages.”

“Only one?”

“Yep, you get one a night.”

“That’s not fair, you get all yours on Christmas.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll open one a night too. It will make it feel like Christmas right through the New Year.”


End file.
